The trouble
by TrueNinja
Summary: Elliott Boyd is a girl who faces unbearable things - every day. Her life is a mess until she bumps into a police officer called Alex Vause. Oitnb AU with a OC. Alex/Piper, Lorna/Nicky. Boo, Penssatucky and others.


**Author** : Hello :D The idea of this story popped into my head as I fell from a tree (I know right, how stupid of me). I'll continue writing this story if I get enough positive reviews etc.

 **Summary** : This is a Orange Is the New Black story. AU. I have a OC in this.

Elliott Boyd is a girl of many problems. She faces ugly, unbearable things every day but no one around her knows it. Her life is a mess until a police officer named Alex Vause bumps into her and changes the game completely.

 **The main characters** : My own creation Elliott Boyd, Alex Vause, Piper Chapman, Nicole _Nicky_ Nichols

 **The regular side characters** : (I mean the ones who have quite big parts in my story too) Lorna Morello, Galina _Red_ Reznikov, Carrie _Big Boo_ Black and several others

 **Rating** : A light M. Not for sexual content actually, although sex is mentioned, but for other not-so-lovely things that happen in my story.

 **Pairings** : Alex/Piper, Nicky/Lorna, Elliott/...people, (others maybe I don't know yet)

 **Disclaimer** : I own nothing but Elliott. Yeah, I'm not getting any money either, I'm just having some fun. Every idea is purely my own - except if someone has a story like this, then my bad - I'm not copying anything either, I don't like that. Yeah...right.

Okay, the first chapter! Leeet's go. Reviews are delicious, remember :D

 _1\. Chapter ~ The savior_

 _3rd person's POV (will remain)_

Apartment three B's outside door was kicked open with such a force that it almost fell off of its rusty hinges. The light green-coloured piece of wood hit the dull cement wall and once again cracked some more, sending the old doorbell flying down the rickety stairs. The booming roars that came from the apartment echoed nastily in the stuffy stairway of the apartment building.

A beanpole of a girl dashed out from the apartment's open door, a skateboard in her hardened, long-fingered hand. The long, rugged cut above her left eye bled badly, messing her narrow, rage-distorted face in blood.

"GET BACK 'ERE, ELLIOTT! YOU WORTHLESS FREAK!"

Her black skating shoes barely tied, Elliott ran down the stairs for the life of her, taking three at a time.

"FUCK YOU, DAD!" She venomously spat over her shoulder, wishing that words could kill or at least hamstring.

Reaching the building's door, Elliott rushed out to the streets of New York, barely suppressing her urge to scream and shout.

After a few hurried steps, she dropped her yellow skateboard to the pavement, jumped on it and increased her speed more and more until she was breathless. Leaving the Boyd residence far behind her, Elliott cursed heavily, rolling down the darkening streets and desperately trying to calm herself down.

Lifting up the hood of her black hoodie to cover her green eyes and short messily waxed-up blonde hair, Elliott breathed in the calming autumn air, taking in lung-fulls. She inhaled and exhaled - exhaled and inhaled. The air, the atmosphere and the lights of the New York city always calmed her down, took her thoughts elsewhere. Otherwise, cigarettes, sex and vandalism worked equally well.

After what felt like hours, Elliott finally stopped and sat down on her board. The anger still burning and twisting her insides, the blonde grabbed the cigarette box from her pocket and lit up one sucker, counting that she only had six left.

Inhaling the deadly smoke, the tall sixteen-year-old closed her left eye. The blood that was trickling down her face was now starting to blur her vision. Her anger towards her parents pulsing through her veins, Elliott used her right hand to wipe the blood from her face. Ignoring the stinging pain that came with it, she stubbornly wiped her face and the wound time after time until she realized it was not going to stop bleeding.

Thinking about the possible explanations that she could use in school on the becoming Monday morning, Elliott cursed heavily, using the ugliest words she knew. The usual bruise-hiding game that she had played since she was a small child was a familiar territory to her. But to explain a swollen, ugly cut that would leave a nasty scar - that would demand some creativity.

Inhaling another drag, the shaking girl tried her best to ignore the coldness of the night that her hoodie stood no chance against. It was the late March, 2016, obviously not the best month to hang outside without a jacket. Coughing roughly, Elliott brought her knees closer to her chest and wrapped her right hand around her legs, keeping the precious cigarette safe in the left.

If she had had a one, Elliott would've used a jacket. As the second oldest and by fair as the tallest one of the four Boyd siblings, however, Elliott wasn't handed a one. Her little brothers Finn and Leigh used the two jackets that were already too small for her and Charlie, her older sister, bought her own. What came to her parents, they used their money to alcohol. And Elliott, she used hers - the couple dollars she was rarely allowed - to cigarettes and spray paint.

Slowly inhaling the last drag of her carcinogen, Elliott's eyes connected with a woman's on the other side of the street. The seemingly up-tight woman gave her a dissaproving stare, filled with disgust. Showing the finger, Elliott got up from her spot, threw the cigarette on the pavement and stomped on it - never once breaking the eye-contact. Spitting a mix of blood and snot at the woman's direction, Elliott fixated her ugliest glare on the idiot and turned to leave. A long time ago had she decided not to spend any time of her life to deal with some patronizing morons. Nor their dissaproving, pity-filled glares.

Half a mile of rolling, another thoroughly smoked cigarette and one calmed mind later, Elliott found herself beautifying a brickwall. After all, spray painting wasn't vandalism, it was art.

Doing marvellous job in ignoring her growing nausea and haphazardly wiping her face clear from the blood every now and then, Elliott used all of her concentration on the brickwall and the can in her hand.

The green eyes accurately following every line of paint that the can released, the young heart beating steadily, Elliott lost the trail of time and forgot the coldness that enveloped her. She always did. Concentrating on the graffitis was a perfect way to push aside the negative feelings and make room for the calmer ones.

Happy with the piece of art she had created, Elliott yet signed it and took a step back, admiring her work. Grinning for the first time since Friday afternoon, dropping the empty can to the ground, Elliott took a deep breath released a shaky laugh. The adrenaline pumping through her veins, she raised her fist to the air, the silver ring in her middle finger glimmering in the weak street lights.

After a while, Elliott exhaled the cold air and dropped her hand to her side, watching as the moist air swirled and flew away. Wondering if she could pull off that kind of a trick too - as she too was built of atoms - Elliott used a small moment on dreaming.

Suddenly, strong headlights of a car illuminated the alley between the two apartment buildings, soaking Elliott in brightness. Her eyes sore from the sudden irritant, her mind irritated, the young girl turned her head towards the source of the light.

A police car had stopped to the end of the alley, two police officers sitting in it. Knowing better than to face them, Elliott quickly turned away, kicking the spray can further away from her. Her heart beating quickly, Elliott's eyes scanned for possible routs to flee. Her glaze stopping at a chain-link fence sixty feet away, that divided the alley in two, Elliott swallowed hard. Hearing a click of a car door opening, the rational side of her brain decided against bolting, in case it would turn out she was not the one they were here for.

"Hey Champ! Whatcha doin'?" Elliott heard a raspy female voice asking her. Weighing the possible answers dearly, Elliott stayed facing the fence instead of turning to the cop, pushing her trepidation aside the best she could.

In spite of her more or less illegal actions, never once had Elliott Ray Boyd been caught by the police force. If she was to get caught now, she would be screwed. She didn't even want to imagine the creative forms of violence that she would face if she did. Suppressing her steadily growing urge to vomit, Elliott forced herself to answer.

"Late night rollin', nothing much."

Hearing the cop's brisk footsteps getting closer to her but stopping before quite reaching her, Elliott guessed that the woman stopped in front of her freshly created graffiti. Not moving a muscle, she listened as the car door clicked open once more, the other cop exiting the car as well.

"Oh, okay. Well, le'mme ask you something, beanpole. How come were Vause and I informed 'bout a _drug-using vandal_ wearin' a black hoodie and pocket pants...who, oh wait - happened the possess a yellow skateboard just like you! I mean how come did that happen, if you're the only person in this whole area who matches the description and you're just _late night rollin'_?" The woman nearer her asked, the question really not being a question.

"Don't know." Elliott tried, although she knew it was useless. She was screwed. Someone had seen her spraying the wall and smoking cigarettes. Of course, as a responsible adult they had felt that it was their responsibility to inform the NYPD for it. As if Elliott would've been the only underaged little criminal in the world.

"Naa, kid, I don't believe you anymore. Besides, isn't it a little late for a clearly underaged girl to be outside all alone?" The raspy-voiced woman asked.

For Elliott, the question was a clear sign to flee. The blonde kicked her board up and bolted forwards, running towards the fence as fast as she could. Hearing the footsteps behind her, she knew that the cop was coming after her. However, Elliott also knew that she was hell of a lot faster than the older woman.

"Fuck you're slow, Nicky!" The deeper voice of the other female cop called out, amused.

"Vause, you suck!" The cop called Nicky yelled back at her partner. Her tone was slightly annoyed but still held a hint of humor in it. Laughing loudly with her rather full tone, Alex Vause got up from the bonnet she had been sitting on and ran away, dissapearing behind the right corner.

"You'd be wise not to run!" Nicky Nichols yelled at the fleeing youngster, facing some crystal clear difficulties in keeping up with the one's pace. She was at least seven inches shorter than the girl - falling behind a foot after foot.

Throwing her skateboard over the twelve feet fence, Elliott wasted no seconds. Effortlessly climbing up to the top, she swinged herself over the fence and landed rather unceremoniously on the dumpsters of the other side. Glancing behind her for the first time, Elliott saw the determined, bushy-haired cop called Nicky climbing up the chain-link fence rather quickly. Not stupid enough to waste her advance, she broke into the wildest of sprints.

The fence slowed Nicky greatly and left a fourty feet gap between her and the seemingly fast girl. Dropping herself on the dumpsters and watching the girl flee, Nicky only hoped that Vause was as fast as she claimed herself to be.

Feeling the nausea take over her body, Elliott's legs became heavier and slowed her pace, even though she only tried to run faster and faster. Turning left from the end of the alley, she saw nothing but black dots and suddenly her vision blurred in multiple shades of red. Stubbornly stumbling forward, Elliott felt her brain giving up and fell down from straight legs, falling unconscious.

Getting a firm grip of the lightweight girl just in time, Alex saved her from hitting the rock-hard pavement. A concerned-looking Nicky jogged - as she no more needed to lead the girl to the right direction - to her and the blonde girl on her arms.

Gently and with firm grip, Alex lay Elliott to the pavement and tried to find her pulse from her neck. Finding a slowing beat, she quickly placed her hand in front of Elliott's nostrills.

Her own heart skipping a beat, Alex fixated her frightened glaze on Nicky, voicing the words that no police officer wants to hear.

"She's not breathing."

Author: Oh well, I love cliffhangers! **Note This please:** The oitnb characters will be included more in the next chapter and so on. I just had to make this first one mainly about Elliott so you could get to know her and her story a little better. Till the next chapter ;)


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